Fire and Ice
by tickingclocks02
Summary: In an alternate reality, 2015 brings a new surge of anti-changeling sentiment to the USA. There is more pressure than ever for Ivonne and Ari to hide their powers, but high school is hard enough as it is. In this coming-of-age story, two very different adolescents strive to balance their budding feelings for one another and their uncontrollable powers amidst public discrimination.
1. I'm on Fire (Ari)

A/N: Dear Reader, thank you so much for your interest in our story! I'm Emily and I'm co-writing this story with my friend, Caitlin: the chapters from Ari's perspective are written by me, and the chapters from Ivonne's perspective are written by Caitlin. Ari and Ivonne are our original creations who have been inspired by characters from Charmed and Frozen. Some characters from Charmed and Frozen will make appearances throughout the fic. The way this fantasy world works was also inspired by both Charmed and Frozen, though it is an AU with a lot of different rules. I really hope you enjoy this fun, magical love story that we've concocted! :)

 _Chapter 1:_

 _I'm on Fire_

 _(Ari)_

As soon as I woke up, I could already feel the anxiety burning deep in my heart. I just lay there, paralyzed by painful white hot fear. I didn't think I could even get out of bed, but I had to.

Today was my first day of school at Monarch Academy. I had hoped to God this would never happen again—starting up at a new school with new people who wouldn't like me. Maybe I didn't want them to like me anyway. If they did like me, that would mean I would have to talk to them. Just thinking about talking to people set my nerves aflame. I closed my eyes again for a few minutes and took deep breaths to calm the fire within me. My brother, Emilio, wouldn't be happy if I made him late for the first day because I set something on fire again.

I had a "gift," as my mom would say. This supposed _gift_ of mine was called pyrokinesis: I could set things on fire with my mind. The problem was that I couldn't control it, like _at all_. Emotion was the trigger, and I was a pretty emotional guy unfortunately. If I ever felt any sort of strong emotion, which was most of the time, I was at risk of burning the whole building down. Back when we lived in California, I started a forest fire once.

As soon as I felt the fire in my veins cooling a bit, I begrudgingly rose from my safe bed and shoved my glasses onto my face with a groan. I was so hot that a feverish sweat had broken out all over my body. I really needed an ice cold shower.

I grabbed my school uniform: a white, long-sleeved button down with black slacks, black dress shoes, and a red, black, and white plaid bow-tie. This school seemed to have some weird fascination with plaid. Mom had bought my uniform and hung it up on my bedroom door so I would see it. To be honest, I probably would've forgotten to wear it if she hadn't set it out for me. I never even thought about clothes. Random baggy sweaters and jeans were always good enough for me.

In the shower, I had to stand under the cold water for at least five minutes before my temperature cooled down to normal. Showers were probably my favorite part of the day. That was how pathetic my life had become. There had once been a time when my life had felt very full and I had looked forward to much more than showers.

Right at that moment, I could see her face so clearly before me that it was like she was in the shower with me. _Dear God_ , did it hurt to think of her. I closed my eyes to make her go away, but it didn't work. Brielle was etched onto the insides of my eyelids. She lived in my heart and I would never be able to get her out.

She didn't break up with me, if that's what you're thinking. No, _they_ took her away from me. She didn't want to leave, but she had to.

Brielle Chastain was my best friend, and I was in love with her. Although we had never officially become boyfriend and girlfriend, we basically were. During those final months with her, she had given me my first kiss. I had never thought a girl would want me, but she did. And she wasn't just any girl. Brielle was electric. She always glowed with this bright passion for life. Not a moment went by that this girl wasn't laughing or smiling. And her eyes were always alight with this beautiful alertness, as she was constantly absorbing her surroundings and enjoying every bit of the world. Watching her love life the way she did made me want to truly live.

But then everything went up in flames. One day, she was just _gone_. I had come to school to find an empty seat next to mine in homeroom. Shortly after arriving at school, we had an assembly for which the entire student body was required to attend. The principal told us that Brielle Chastain had committed a heinous crime against a teacher, Mr. Loomis, who was in the hospital for severe injuries. She had electrocuted him. Brielle was a changeling, like me. She had the gift of electrokinesis, and supposedly she had used that gift to hurt someone. The law enforcers had immediately arrested her upon being accused by Mr. Loomis. They took her away to a changeling prison camp, the location of which is unknown. No one even knows what they do to changelings at those camps, but we all can imagine some terrible possibilities. As soon as the principal finished telling us this shocking piece of news, everyone around me started whispering: "I always knew there was something wrong with her." "I bet she electrocuted him on purpose." "I wonder if they're torturing her wherever she is." I stood up to leave the room, my vision blurring with red spots. I was on fire with every emotion imaginable. Before I knew what was happening, I heard the screams.

I didn't hurt anyone, but I did set the stage curtains in the auditorium on fire. That's why we had to move away and that's why I had to enroll at this new school. My parents didn't want everyone to shun me at school and in society in general. It was not against the law to possess a magical gift, since it was impossible to control whether one received a gift, nor was it against the law to merely use one's gift so long as no people were harmed by that gift. But changelings were always made to feel like criminals whether they were or not. In schools all across America, changelings were prime bullying targets. Normal people thought we weren't human or something, and they either were afraid of us or felt superior to us or even hated us. I remember the way everyone stared at me that day, terror and disgust in all of their eyes. Mom immediately unenrolled my brother and me from the school because she knew our lives would become living hells if we stayed.

My life was a living hell anyway without Brielle. I couldn't stand not knowing what was happening to her right now. She could be hurting or even dead for all I knew.

I turned off the shower, groaning. I didn't want it to be over. I didn't want to go a school full of strangers. I didn't know how to make friends. The only reason why Brielle and I had become friends was because she came to me. No one would come to me at this school. I just knew these final two years of high school would be the loneliest of my life.

When I finally emerged from the shower, Emilio barged into the bathroom. I was naked, but I didn't really care.

"I need to shower too, slowpoke," he teased, flashing one his winning grins at me before whipping off his boxers and stepping into the tub. I wished I could smile like him. Everyone loved my brother from the moment he flashed his teeth at them.

After throwing on my clothes, I made my way down to breakfast. The smell of pancakes and eggs made my stomach churn. I was too nervous to eat, but I knew my mom would make me eat anyway. When I saw her in the kitchen, she smiled brightly at me.

" _Buongiorno!_ " she cried a little too cheerfully for seven in the morning. My mom often tried to toss Italian into conversation because she didn't want Emilio and me to lose our heritage. We originally lived in Italy, but when I was four we moved to America. Laws against magical gifts were much stricter in Europe. Italian changelings were often executed if they were discovered, even if they didn't hurt anyone. My parents could see how unstable my brother and I were with our powers, and they knew Italy was not safe for us. America, though not perfect, was our best option.

"Are you excited for school?" Mom asked.

I just shrugged, unable to speak because my throat was closing with panic. Mom's eyes lit up with sympathy, and she rushed over to me to wrap me up in her arms.

"Oh, my beautiful Ari. What makes you so afraid? You are such a lovely boy, and you will make so many new friends!" She held me away from herself at arm's length and smiled reassuringly. "Now, let me help you with that bow tie."

I hadn't been able to tie it on my own and I had it hanging around my neck. But Mom knew what to do, as always.

She practically forced a pancake and some eggs down my throat, and they settled uncomfortably in my stomach. By the time I finished eating, Emilio came sliding down the banister along the stairs. My mom just laughed appreciatively instead of scolding him like a regular mom. He already had _his_ bowtie on. Emilio always had himself together way better than I did.

"You look so handsome, _amore mio_ ," she crooned to him, leaving a kiss on his dimpled cheek. He really did look handsome, but what was new? Emilio was just a naturally good looking guy, and he still would have looked handsome if he were wearing a potato sack.

"Thanks, Mom," he said with another of his famous smiles. Then to me: "You ready for school, man? You look ready. You're gonna be a real knockout with the ladies at this school, I'm sure of it." He punched my shoulder playfully, and it kind of hurt. He was an absolute jock, and he had _way_ more muscle mass than I could ever hope to have.

"Yeah, right," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. But I really did appreciate his attempt to make me feel more optimistic, even if it didn't work. I had no idea why any girls at school would notice me, nor did I want them to notice me. Brielle was the only girl for me.

Mom asked me if I wanted to drive to school, but I knew I would probably crash because I was just that nervous. I had gotten my driver's permit a few months ago, and I loved driving, but today I just couldn't handle it. Emilio, who already had his license, drove us instead.

The whole way to school, Mom and Emilio chattered on in their relaxed way and I didn't hear a word of it. I was too busy praying that I wouldn't set anything on fire today. My panic burned hotter as we approached the school. I wanted to ask my mom to turn up the air conditioning in the car, but I couldn't speak.

 _I wish you were here, Bri._

And then, I saw it. Monarch Academy loomed up before us, an impressive and terrifying fortress. Within those gray brick walls could only be bad things and bad people. I already hated it.

 _The rest of high school is going to suck, isn't it, Bri?_


	2. Ice Queen (Ivonne)

**Fire** **and** **Ice**

((Ivonne))

"It's the first day of school!" Chloe shrieked in my ear for the billionth time.

"Yes, _cherié_ ," our mother responded, a touch condescendingly. "We heard you the first time." Although her back was to us as she typed away on her laptop on the kitchen counter, I still heard a smile in her voice.

I shivered, wrapping my fuzzy robe more tightly around me. I wisely decided to say nothing, lifting up my breakfast plate to put in the sink. But Mom wasn't going to let me off that easily.

"Aren't you excited too, Ivonne? It's your Junior year. You are—" She paused to finish typing her sentence, then tried again, having trouble finding the word in English.

"An upperclassman?" finished Chloe, the helpful darling that she is.

"Yes." She finally glanced up from her screen and stared at me expectantly.

"Um. Yeah," I responded, hoping that was satisfactory. Truthfully, I wasn't particularly giddy about the start of school. It was hard to hide in a fishbowl.

I guess I got a bit too apprehensive thinking about it. "Ivonne! Your hair!" Chloe frowned at me just as another involuntary shiver ran down my back. The familiar sting of resentment followed. I hated this—and I hated that my sister had to be so obvious to the fact that my hair had frozen yet again, as if I had taken a shower and then immediately stepped into negative temperatures.

It was getting harder and harder to keep my gift a secret. Whatever I felt, it showed itself. In every setting, it showed itself. And recently, it had been affecting my actions.

And I was always, always cold.

In my room, it took another fifteen minutes to thaw out my hair with a blowdryer. The water that melted off froze again the instant it touched my shirt. Augh. I unplugged the dryer, wrapped up the cord, and stuffed it into my backpack. More likely than not, I'd need it.

"Hello!" I heard a familiar voice through the open door to my room, from the foyer on the floor below. That was Delores, our nanny. I smiled as she called our names. "Chloe! Ivonne! Ready for school?" I'd missed her over the weekend.

Chloe's heels on the hard stairs was her answer. I shouldered my backpack and glanced at myself in the mirror. Black hair covering one eye, slouchie covering the top of my head. Solid black hoodie over my school uniform. Lace choker, check. Fishnets, check. Leather heeled boots, check. Fingerless gloves, check.

This was me "dressed up".

"Bye Foo-Foo," I said softly to my sugar glider in the cage in the corner of my bedroom just before turning out the lights.

"You're going to wear _that?"_ Chloe remarked as I got down the stairs.

I shoved my hands into my hoodie pockets. "Yeah?"

"But it's the first day."

"I know. Hence, fishnets." I gestured to my legs, which seemed to stretch for miles compared to my sister's shapely limbs, which had a perfect beginning and end.

"But you always wear that."

"No I don't."

"I think you look great," remarked Delores, looking me over approvingly.

I smiled. "Thank you."

"Okay, darlings!" My mother walked quickly into the foyer to join us, wearing heels that startlingly matched my sister's. "Off to work!" She kissed each of us twice on the cheek.

"Have a good day," I said.

We parted ways there.

It was about a half an hour ride to school, on a good morning. If there was heavy traffic, up to an hour. Delores was a good driver though—in the four years she'd been with us, we'd never had an accident. "What are you most looking forward to this year?" she asked in the car, as a conversation piece.

"Joining the Mathletes team," quipped my sister instantly. This was the first year she'd be in highschool with me, starting Freshman year. Yes, she was perfect. Gorgeous figure, fashion sense, and smarts to boot as an aspiring rocket scientist. Nerd and Super Model all in one. Yep, I could already tell she'd be a hit with the Mathletes.

"Ivonne?" she prompted.

Again I had to speak, squeezing the heat packs in my hands as the cold became unbearable. At least my hair hadn't frozen yet. "Being an officer in the Art Club." My school had about the smallest art club in the country, but I was the vice president. The president was my friend Aleta, one of the only people I could stand to be around at that school.

"That's great! So you really want to stick with art?"

"Yeah." I looked at art as a language unto itself, a language I was determined to master. Right now I was obsessed with the Baroque period—the purest expression of emotion. Its entire _purpose_ was to convey emotion, to make the viewer _feel._ I was actually working on my own piece, emulating the style of—

"And maybe Vonni will get a boyfriend this year, too."

Whoa. I'd definitely missed something. "What?"

In my surprise, the internal temperature of the car dropped several degrees. I saw Delores reach for the dashboard and nonchalantly adjust the heat.

"I'm just saying," Chloe reiterated, shrugging her shoulders. "The stars could align and something could happen." She smirked.

"Right." I rolled my eyes and rubbed my heat packs together in my palms, trying to banish my discomfort at the mere idea of a boy in my life that I actually liked back. All the boys that liked me usually did because of the way I dressed, and completely fell off the bandwagon as soon as they walked into the art studio. I'd been disappointed way too many times for that.

Almost immediately after we walked into the front entrance of Monarch Academy, Chloe disappeared. I guess she wanted to figure out where her classes were before all the mayhem began, or she found some friends or something. I didn't worry about it. Instead, I made my way toward the Fine Arts wing, into my favorite room of the entire campus.

"IVONNE!" I was greeted with a soul-crushing hug from Aleta, who had beaten me here. I was momentarily grateful that she couldn't feel how freezing I was from the thick hoodie protecting me. As she pulled back, I noticed those bouncy curls, so brown they seemed black, hopping around her shoulders and complimenting her hazel eyes so well. It was obvious she was happy to see me. "How was your summer?" Before I got a chance to think about it, she started jumping up and down. "Your canvas is still here!"

"What? Really?" We didn't know if the staff would move my larger-than-life canvas to a storage room over the summer, but they had left it there, still covered with the sheet I'd draped over it last spring.

I didn't get enough time to uncover it before the bell rang, indicating that we begin to head to class. "Oh, I almost forgot," said Aleta, leaning towards me conspiratorially, "there are _transfers._ " Her eyes sparkled, which gave me the essential clue.

I sighed. "They're boys, aren't they."

"Yes!" she squealed. "I heard from Mindy Lewis that one's a Junior, like us, and one's a Senior. They're brothers." She poked my arm. Twice. And giggled.

"Stop, I know what you're implying," I tried to cut her off—

"ONE FOR EACH OF US!"

" _Aleta—"_

"I'll have a prom date after all!"

"Stop…"

"Look for unfamiliar tall guys," she teased, and added with a little wink, "If I see them at lunch, I'll point them out to you."

"Oh, goodie," I retorted, rolling my eyes. She just laughed, and gave a little wave before splitting off to head to class.

Oh yeah. It's going to be a great year.

I walked into homeroom and glanced at the wall clock. Still a few minutes until class started. Our seats were in alphabetical order, so I paced around the back of the classroom looking for "R". I passed a group of girls who were whispering to each other.

"My mom said he was a changeling…"

There they were, gossiping about the latest DC atrocity. I found my seat and sat down, sighing and endeavoring to inconspicuously put on some thicker gloves so I wouldn't accidentally freeze the chair or any classwork.

It wasn't illegal to be a changeling—that is, someone like me. Someone with abilities normal people didn't have. It's just that the stereotype spoke louder than we did. Changeling powers are volatile, and the most difficult thing in existence to control. You might as well try to control the weather. You can predict it, you can prepare for it, you can try to circumvent the results, but in the end, you can't stop it. That's why we were dangerous; that's why society hated us. We spread panic and anxiety everywhere we go once we are known, which is why we take very big pains to conform.

It's a lot easier if no one knows, because once the secret is leaked, you are watched. Teachers and students alike will follow you to make sure you don't destroy anything or kill anyone, your friends will all start to feel uncomfortable around you, and parents will begin to complain that the changeling in their child's classroom is a disruption to their learning. I've seen it happen many times, and it's made me redouble my efforts at concealing myself.

"Good morning, class. Welcome to the first day of Junior year." Oh good, Mrs. McCaffrey had begun the lesson. I took a deep, calming breath. You can do this. Get through homeroom. A chilling shiver shot down my spine, and I held my breath, trying to suppress the surge of power that was welling up inside of me.

 _Oh no._ I watched in horror as frost began to cover the edges of my desk. No, not already. I shivered again, and knew from that sickly, cold feeling that my hair had frozen yet again.

I couldn't focus like this. Silently begging for the bell to ring, I sat there, gripping the sides of my chair and taking deep breaths.

The raw power stewed inside of me, clawing for a release. I would not let it. I was stronger… or so I told myself, over and over.

Come on, bell! Ring!

The minutes dragged by. I began to tremble with exhaustion as holding in the manic energy became unbearable, and the ice crept along the sides of the desk. I watched the particles form and cluster together, layering thicker and thicker, internally panicking.

I shut my eyes tight.

 _Bell! Ring!_

… _PLEASE!_

Sweet relief flowed like hot chocolate through me as the beautiful bell sounded, prompting us to go to our first class. I grabbed my stuff as fast as humanly possible and high-tailed it to the bathroom. There, at least, I could lock myself up in a cubicle. I could hide. It was always cold in there anyway, so I had a perfectly good alibi.

Plus, I had to blow-dry my hair, yet again.

A shadow came over me, and I looked up to see Hans blocking the entrance to the girl's bathroom. "Hey, Ice Queen." It was a pet name he gave me in Freshman year for my "stoic" personality, not realizing just how close to the mark he really was. "Welcome back to your realm of Darkness." He had no idea how close he was to getting frozen solid, silly grin and all.

"Get out of my way."

"She speaks." He leaned in closer, and I took a step back, repulsed by his overpowering, ever-present scent of marijuana. "I can take you out of the underworld, Ivonne. I'm a child of light. Let me take you higher than you've ever been."

Yes, he was definitely high. High enough to follow me into the girl's bathroom. "Get away from me." I tried to duck under his arm, but I was too tall, and he grabbed my wrist.

"What do you wear these for?" he lolled, and tugged off my glove before I could stop him.

"Hans! Give it back, or you'll regret it," I hissed.

He was too far gone to see how literally I meant it, and laughed. "You're so cute when you're mad."

This was ridiculous. I grasped his wrist with my bare hand and he recoiled, hissing an explicative under his breath. I grabbed my glove and rushed into the bathroom.

I waited until I heard him leave, and by then, the water in the toilet was completely frozen. I sighed, and saw my breath in the air. Yes, I'd given him a dry ice burn. Touching my skin will do that.

Hans was alright, when he wasn't high as a kite; he got annoyingly philosophical. It's just that I'd like him a lot more if he and his lackeys weren't constantly hitting on me. Not only were they completely unattractive, all of them, but being a changeling in modern society made dating pretty much unthinkable. There was no point in even getting my hopes up.

Not that I would ever date Hans, or any of his friends. Not my type.

When my hair had been reasonably thawed out, and I looked like a normal high school goth girl again, I stepped back out into hostile territory.

The hallways were quiet, empty. Right… I'd been here a while. First period had already been going for about 10 minutes.

My stomach rumbled. As it turns out, freezing everything in sight burns a lot of calories, so I decided to get a snack from the vending machine before going to class.

As I rounded the corner, I almost slammed into a boy, but managed to narrowly avoid him. "Sorry," I mumbled, and as I glanced over my shoulder, our eyes locked.

Then several things happened at once.

Something sparked in his chocolate-brown eyes, catching the light—and suddenly I smelled _smoke._ My scalp prickled, and I realized quickly that my hair was _on fire_ , that is until it froze in my surprise and fizzled out with a "hissssss" sound. I gasped, and momentarily my control slipped. The tile floor within a five-foot radius of me glazed over in a thin layer of ice.

There we were, staring at each other, our faces both bright red.

Well. A fellow changeling.


End file.
